


Would that be enough?

by Minkey222



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, Episode: s04e01 The Six Thatchers, Fix-It of Sorts, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inner Dialogue, John is a Bit Not Good, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, Sherlock Needs A Hug, Spoilers for TST, Suicidal Thoughts, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 08:46:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9171688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minkey222/pseuds/Minkey222
Summary: It was my fault.I killed your wife.It should have been me.





	

**Author's Note:**

> God, that episode messed me up real good. Damn son. But real talk, what the hell was that noise that John made when Mary died? The helllllllll? It was a good episode, even though some people have mixed views on it. Oh well.

“You made a vow. You swore it,”

 

I know I did, God do I know. Damnit, John, why? Why did I make that damned vow? That guttural, animalistic noise haunts me, John. Every time I shut my eyes I can hear it, echoing around the walls in my head. I can see the splash of red, every time. Damnit, it stains everything I touch, everything I see. John, I know it’s illogical to think this way but, John, I can't stop thinking this way.

 

It is my fault. 

 

I could see it in your eyes as you held her, dying in your arms. You blame me. Of course, you do, it’s the logical course of action. Causation and reaction. It’s the way of the world. I caused something, it’s my fault if I hadn’t- If I’d just- Me and my big mouth-. I can still hear Mary in my head, telling me to stop. She knew what was going to happen. She knew that someone was going to get shot. I did too, to some extent. I just thought- well I didn’t think- it would be me.

 

She had so much life left to live with you, John. You and Rosie. She had a chance to a life she had always wanted. God, and I took that all away, John.

 

I find myself missing your voice, staring at the red balloon you’d left behind. I call your phone, you never pick up, so I simply listen to the voicemail. Once, twice. A ridiculous amount of times. You never seem to pick up.

 

It comes at no surprise that you’d want anyone more than me. If I were you I’d think the same.

 

I killed your wife.

 

It should have been me.

 

I stay up late thinking about it. What if? What if I’d been shot? Would you have been happy? Last time- Last time you found happiness. I took that away. What now, though? 

 

What if I got shot now? 

 

I’d be gone. I hurt you, so irreparably so, it would be justice. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. A friend for a wife.

 

Would you be happy then, John?

 

Would I be happy then?

* * *

 

Sherlock pushes the syringe plunger down until all of the liquid was emptied into his bloodstream. The high hits him immediately. He sits, alone, on his bathroom floor.

 

He doesn’t hear the phone ring in the other room.

 

He doesn’t hear the desperation when he doesn’t pick up the phone.

 

His pupils dilate, as his consciousness slips away and his head hits the cold tiles.

 

He doesn’t hear the door slam open.

  
He just doesn’t


End file.
